


Open Door

by Librarity



Series: Gobblepotalliance2019 [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemy Lovers, Gobblepotalliance2019, Hurt Jim, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Protective Oswald Cobblepot, Season/Series 05, Star-crossed, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Librarity/pseuds/Librarity
Summary: When you're at your most desperate,  you go to someone you trust most.  Desperation reveals things that would otherwise remain hidden.When Jim is hit hard he goes to the one place he feels safest.  He goes to Oswald.Gobblepotalliance2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts used:  
> One holding the other up  
> Waiting together  
> Dancing together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so much of the sleepy dialogue in the fic is thanks to [ BlackArcticFox ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackArticFox/pseuds/BlackArticFox) and [CaptainChilly ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainChilly) as well as my half awake inspiration for all this!!!! They were my fic angels as always!

Jim’s feet dragged the ground, toes catching on every imperfection in the pavement. His head was spinning like his brain was in a blender and staying vertical was considerably more challenging than it had the right to be. His head was heavy, one side still burning where he knew a deep gash had been carved. Head wounds always bled so much and he could feel the blood all the way down his chest.

His vision was not only swimming but black around the edges. There was an acid burn on his arm from the fight in the plant he had with Ecco and that probably hurt more than anything else. It felt like being burned alive, igniting the blood and flesh around it.

Ecco had been a handful on her own but he had no realized Jervis was still so close. The hypnotized men coming out of the woodwork had been less shocking than it should have been, but then, nothing shocked him anymore; not even Jervis jabbing him with something before he grabbed Ecco and bolted for parts unknown. 

Jim’s body felt like lead and his face was cold like ice rather than hot the way it so often would have been when he was straining himself. His blood felt like it was leaving in general and it left him unusually frozen, shivering even though he was panting from the stress.

He needed help and he needed it badly. Instinct was driving him and he was not even consciously aware of where, only that he absolutely had to get there. He was going somewhere safe and he was desperate to get there. Regardless of facts behind the thoughts, his mind was convinced that everything would be fine if he could get to _that_ place. He just needed to make it, that was all he could really think about.

Just a little farther. A little farther and things would be better. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” Someone barked, and Jim’s tunnel vision did not afford him the ability to see the speaker even when he tried to look around. Moving his head was too hard. 

“That’s Gordon!” Yet another voice penetrated the ringing in Jim’s ears and it spurred him to drag his feet a little faster, pitching him forward and almost toppling him on his face; he only just clung to a wall; a solid object he was glad existed; dragging himself still onward.

Jim had to make it wherever he was going, he just had to. He felt like he was close, he was sure he was. He pushed when he saw a handle, his fingers were hardly responding to commands so he was grateful it was nothing but a push-knob.

Someone moved past him and opened a door, one he would have had to twist and he was immensely glad, even in his addled state, that someone with functioning fingers was around. He had no idea what they were doing,  but as long as they weren't stopping him, he was thankful. 

“Boss!” The man that opened the door shouted as Jim took his chance and slid through the open door like a drunk getting back into a bar they had just been kicked out of.

Jim kept going farther into the room and he vaguely saw the cluster of people but what he really saw was the man at the center of it all. 

Black suit,  red tie,  all smooth lines and sharp angles.   The man,  the same man Jim's subconscious clearly had been driving him toward with unwavering focus, stood  quickly from a large chair. He looked at Jim with huge green eyes,  the fear in them growing so swiftly even Jim could notice it.  Oswald shouted something,  hobbling around the giant desk and Jim's legs lost the battle against gravity the second the man came close. 

Multiple sets of hands gripped him,  slowing his descent to the floor but they hurt him so much. Jim couldn't focus, he only knew he hurt and the floor was cold. Oswald was on the floor with him, slapping at his men, shooing them away, clearing the space around Jim like an angry goose hissing and flapping his wings. 

Jim could breathe again, secure, safe, just safe. Nothing bad would happen to him here,  he just knew it somehow.  Things would get better now. 

A hand, touch gentle and fingers shaking, slid under his head to cradle it off the floor, "Jim,  what happened? Can you hear me?"

Jim blinked at him, his mind whirling to formulate an answer that could not  manage to find a path to his lips, "Oz..." was all he found the ability to say. 

The world went black entirely, so fast he didn't have time to even resist it, it just fell out from under him. While it was not the most pleasant feeling it did not frighten him,  he knew he was safe and he felt secure in letting go. He's held on so long,  just waiting to find this place.  Whether he lived or died,  it would be fine so long as it was here. 

* * *

Jim's eyes were so heavy when he tried to blink them open next.  He gave up rather quickly on opening his eyes even though there was so much noise in the background he could not even begin to understand.  

He surrendered,  falling right back into a simply wonderful sleep.  It had been so long since he slept,  he had almost forgotten how spectacular it was to just have his eyes closed for a long period of time. 

The next time he was at all aware,  he knew instantly that he must have been asleep too long.  He felt too good to assume he only slept his usual nap time.  He had too much to do to rest like this!

The Green Zone always needed him,  there was no time for something like sleeping! He had no time for things as luxurious as sleep. 

Jim sat up before he even opened his eyes, swinging his legs out from under a blanket and off the side of the bed. His vision was blurred and he couldn't really see, but that was normal in the morning. 

There was something like a distressed squeak from somewhere and suddenly his drooping head had a pillow in the form of a shoulder to rest on.  Arms wound around him, holding him tightly to another body and he immediately tried to return the hug but one arm didn't really work so he was only able to partially reciprocate. 

He breathed in deep, absorbing the scent, closing his eyes and leaning into the smaller man, "Oswald," he sighed into his neck, "hi."

Oswald's response was a little stained, "Hello, " he was pushing rather hard and Jim couldn't quite figure out why, "if you could please get back on the bed, that would be good!"

Jim nuzzled into his neck, "What for?"

Oswald was definitely gritting his teeth, "Because if you don't,  we will both me on the floor!"

"I don't mind, the floor is fine." His groggy mind could not actually find a problem with the floor. 

"Yes,  well,  good for you,  but I do mind!" Oswald insisted,  groaning under Jim's weight, and that was when he realised how heavily he was leaning on the smaller man. 

"You're so much stronger than you look." Jim pulled his head back to look at him,  prying his eyes open. 

Oswald had a pink tint in his cheeks now,  clearly working hard against the added pull of gravity caused by Jim laying against him, "Thank you, but will you kindly lie back down?"

Jim obeyed rather suddenly, without really thinking about it, all but throwing himself backward; he was sure there was something a little wrong with his current behavior but he was unsure what it was exactly. 

Oswald squeaked again as the abrupt shift threw him off balance and toppled him right along with Jim.  He landed mainly on Jim's chest,  suddenly bringing to light that Jim's chest hurt quite substantially; odd how he hadn't noticed before.  The criminal kingpin scrambled off when Jim whined in pain,  muttering a string of sweet, endearing apologies. 

The pain was easy to forget though,  swept up in the weariness and fog. Jim could feel the pain but lacked the ability to care for long. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, my friend, but you shouldn't have done that! Don't scare me like that! You shouldn't be up!" Fingers pet so gently into Jim's hair and the cop struggled to figure out who's they were. "How do you feel?"

"So tired," Jim admitted. 

"That is understandable," Jim finally realized the fingers in his hair were not his own but Oswald's. 

"I feel so strange..."

"I know you do,  but it's going to get better." He smiled and it was a thin, watery sort of smile that Jim did not think he liked. 

"What happened?" Jim mumbled. 

"I was rather hoping you could tell me that,  Jim. Do you know who attacked you?"

"Ecco and Tetch," he replied quickly,  sure at least of that fact,  if no other. 

Oswald hummed,  seeming to mumble more to himself than Jim, "I'll have to see if I can find them,  little vermin..."

Jim waved a hand about mindlessly, "You should tell Harvey for me.  They need to be..." He lost the thought halfway in but tried to finish anyway, "sleeping."

"Yes, I agree. A very deep sleep."

"Right!" Jim affirmed,  oblivious to the broad implications. "Good idea."

"I thought so." Oswald smiled,  bright and wide. 

Jim blinked at him,  grinning  back sleepily, "Your lips are like bananas..."

Oswald's manicured brows shot up, "Pardon?"

"So smooth," Jim blinked at him,  trying to rally his tongue, "squishable, and pretty."

The corners of Oswald's mouth jerked several times before he pursed his lips tightly,  taking a second before he licked them, "Thank you, Jim. You are undoubtedly the first person to ever tell me that." He lost the battle against a silly smile, huffing a laugh at Jim's expense, "In light of your current condition, I think you might want to go to sleep."

"I am asleep." Jim insisted,  suddenly very sure of that.

"You are on a different wavelength, old friend, I'll give you that." Oswald grinned and shifted the hair from Jim's eyes, "Why don't you close your eyes?"

"Should I?" Jim asked,  very unsure of that,  conflicted by the growing suspicion that he needed to be doing something. It nagged at his more coherent center.  

"Yes, Jim, you should." Oswald insisted. 

Jim patted Oswald arm, feeling all those delicate aspects under his fingers as he squeezed a little, "You're like a puppet; you're small and bony, so easy to hold..." that didn't sound complementary, even Jim knew that so he made an effort to clarify, "Oh, but you're pleasant to hold, maybe you're more like a plushie... with pretty bird feathers for hair."

Oswald looked at him like he had grown another head, "Please go to sleep, Jim."

"I am," Jim insisted, but a moment later he whispered a worried protest, "but I can't sleep. I have to help everyone."

Oswald leaned down,  resting his forehead on Jim's temple, "It's alright,  you can sleep for a little while." 

"But something might happen, I have to stop it! Haven is..."

"Jim,  no,  no, " That voice crooned gently, "Nothing bad is going to happen."

"How do you know?"

"I always know." He carefully slid his hand into Jim's and it felt like being give a gift, "And so I'm telling you that it's alright."

"I'm so tired," Jim confessed sadly, and he meant it from the bottom of his soul. 

"Oh, darling, it's alright.  It's going to be alright, I promise you!  You just need to sleep for a while and you'll feel so much better!"

"Don't leave me," Jim begged, not sure he could stand to be alone when he felt so very confused. 

"I won't,  I'm going to be right here." Oswald promised solemnly as he pressed his lips softly to Jim's brow, "You'll feel much better soon.  Things will be fine.  You can rest."

With affirmation and permission given, Jim crashed into sleep like letting go of a high hanging bar over a pit of blackness.  It was not entirely pleasant or horrible,  it just was. Maybe Oswald was right and things would be better once he slept. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say enough times how great [ BlackArcticFox ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackArticFox/pseuds/BlackArticFox) and [CaptainChilly ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainChilly) are as they have been indispensable through all this! They are the best! Jim's ramblings are pretty much entirely taken from their hilarious, amazing brains! I asked for ideas and they more than delivered! XD

Jim could not make out the words at first,  but Oswald was talking to someone and he sounded considerably less than happy. His voice was coiled tight, controlled, but so very threatening. There was no telling what one of his underlings had done or said to enrage him so thoroughly. 

"Say that again! I _dare_ you!" Oswald barked,  much like a dog clacking it's teeth in warning. 

"I'm sorry that it's not what you want to hear." The other voice seemed calm and nervous at once, like someone used to being surrounded by hostility, but possibly not _Penguin's_ hostility. 

"Do you want protection for your little hospital or **_not_**?" Penguin growled, "I told you what you need to do to get that,  so I **_expect_** to see it done! When I give an order, I generally expect to see it **_followed_**!"

Jim reached out blindly,  patting around his immediate vicinity to see if he could find a hand or an arm belonging to the angry man as he hoped to settle him down before he stabbed someone. 

Jim found fingers and hoped they belonged to the mobster; the tiny gasp let him know he found the right hand, "Oswald," Jim admonished,  or tried to.

Another hand covered Jim's, fingers curling protectively over his, "Well,  look who's awake!"

Jim wasn't sure he qualified as awake considering he was still much too tired to put effort into opening his eyes. He relaxed,  humming an agreement anyway. 

"We will finish this discussion later.  For now,  you might go get something to eat." The words sounded friendly enough but the tone was a razor edge from a threat. 

It was strange how changeable the criminal could be.  One moment he was raging,  the next he might be calm,  even sweet.  It was like watching a wild creature be freed from a cage only to be captured again.  Oswald,  in many ways, was a wild animal that could not be tamed.  His killer instinct could only be caged or set free.  Only some very few people could pet him without having their hand bitten off. 

Penguin was selective about his accepted humans.  Jim was one of the select few and he knew that.  Perhaps he was also one of the few Penguin kept his darker impulses caged for. 

While Jim had no idea why,  he thought back to the rabbit he had as a child.  His mother made him keep it in a hutch outside and never allowed him to bring it in the house even when he promised not to let it down. He walked her on a leash but she always wanted to run farther than he could take her. 

One day, Jim had come home from school to find the cage door open. He searched everywhere,  but he never found his rabbit,  nor even saw her again.  He like to think that the wild rabbits running around later with that special shade of red were Cinnamon's children. He liked to think she found happiness outside. 

"Rabbits die if they get lonely, you know." Jim said, unsure why he even thought of it. 

Oswald inhaled sharply, "Don't say things like that!"

Cinnamon left him for better things, for fields of grass and a life off a leash, "Do you want to live outside too, Oswald?" Jim asked. 

"Well..." Oswald hesitated, sounding more than a little puzzled, "not particularly. I'm not really the tree house, nature sort of guy.  It would wrinkle my suits."

"Do you want to run away to live with other rabbits though?" Jim just needed to know,  needed to ask if Oswald would leave him too. 

Oswald huffed and Jim suspected he was rolling his eyes, "I can't say that I do, no. I believe I'm quite fine exactly where I am... but thank you for asking."

"Good, I would miss you."

Oswald fingers tightened around his and it took him a moment to answer, "I would miss you too, old friend. Which is why I'm staying right here... and I expect you to stay here as well."

"Okay," Jim agreed easily, feeling heaviness increase in his body,  making moving even more impossible. 

He wondered, given enough time, if it might not just crush him entirely.  Perhaps it would,  little by little,  the way Riddler's machine press had.

"Oswald..."

"I'm here,  right here," a second hand found Jim's face."

There was really so much to say,  so many things he should say, "I'm sorry, so sorry for going to Falcone. I should have believed you. Pax Penguina wasn't all bad, and I'm so sorry I brought Sofia here. I should never have, I was so bitter and I was dumb. I still am. I did so much harm!"

The fingers stilled, "Jim,  don't."

Jim didn't really listen, "You went to Arkham again for that... I put a child in danger. I didn't know what I was getting us into."

"I know you didn't intend for any of that, Jim. You don't have to tell me." Oswald's words were unusually rushed. 

"You asked for Ed's help though, and he answered.  You knew you couldn't rely on me... I wouldn't have called me either. At least I made sure you weren't sent back after Sofia was shot! Is that worth anything? Is that enough for you not to hate me?" He was glad his eyes were closed,  it felt safer. 

"Jim..."

"Why don't you hate me? You could do anything to me now.  It's your right." Jim felt clearer now than he had in a while,  like the world made a bit of sense without making sense. 

"God, Jim... please... It's alright, I forgave you. It's behind us now. It doesn't matter anymore. Please don't think about it right now? Focus on getting better!"

Jim doubted that it didn't matter but he did not have time to respond, he fell back into that darkness before he noticed it coming for him. 

* * *

Jim had no concept of time,  he really only knew one thing consistently,  and that was Oswald.  On this occasion he knew something else.  He knew pain,  so much of it. 

All he could see was the vast ceiling of the courthouse stretching on and on like an ocean.  It made him feel so small and alone. 

The pain took his breath away,  robbed his lungs and made them seize.  There was nothing that was not on fire,  burning him up.  When he tried to move his head,  searching for Oswald,  the pain in his neck and head skyrocketed so sharply he cried out like a wounded pup. 

"Hey,  boss,  he's-" 

"Shut up!" Oswald snapped, "get out! All of you! Get that idiot doctor in here! **_Now_**!"

At least he knew Oswald was close. 

The bed shifted, he could feel the movement of something landing on the mattress and moving over it. Something wet ran over Jim's check and a second later, a round, brown and white head with a short nose and floppy ears came into perspective. Those long jowls hung around a lollng tongue. Big, dark eyes looked into his, round and worried, before the tongue ran over his cheek again. It was considerably more comforting than Jim would have expected. 

"Edward,  be careful," Oswald told the dog as he moved into view, "be gentle," he ran a hand over the dogs head the way Jim wanted to but couldn't. 

"Oz..." He hardly sounded like himself,  he sounded like a ghost. 

"Hang on, Jim!" Oswald sat on the side of the bed, hovering over him, "It's going to get better very soon,  just stay with me!"

"Hurts..." Jim breathed, and that long tongue came again, licking up his neck in a comforting gesture. 

Oswald leaned closer, green eyes sinking right into Jim's soul, "I know,  my darling,  but it won't be for long! I promise! Soon,  everything will be fine again! The doctor is just going to give you something and then it will all be fine!"

"Don't leave me," Jim whined. 

"Never!" Oswald whispered fiercely. 

"Why does it hurt?"

"It's going to get better!" Oswald insisted,  planting his hands on either side of Jim's head so he could more or less close of his senses,  bring all his attention to one place, "Jim, how do you like my tie? I've been trying various colors. Do you think this is a good one?"

Jim knew perfectly well it was a diversion, a distraction,  but he looked at the tie anyway. A shiny green brocket. "I hate it."

Oswald offered him a mild look of annoyance, "You're just being obstinate."

"I don't like green, except your eyes, all other green is evil."

Oswald frowned,  seeming incredulous, "What? Why is green evi-" he paused as realization dawned, "oh... well, alright, I suppose, considering the volume of people you don't like that wear it, I can see how you might develop an aversion."

The only green he liked was the soft, loving green nestled in the pools of Oswald's eyes. Those eyes were kind to him,  gentle when they looked at him.  Those eyes were where he was safe. 

Jim did not realize someone else had arrived until Oswald pulled away, snarling an angry, "Took you long enough!"

The man, the doctor, did not reply, he simply tapped at a syringe, pressing the plunger a little farther to get the air out of it before he stuck it directly into the softest part of Jim's neck. 

Oswald positively glared, sending nonverbal threats so intensely he might as well have used words. The doctor received them loud and clear regardless as he stepped away and he looked apologetic, though only mildly.  He clearly wanted no part of this. 

"It will take a minute to work into his system." The doctor informed, getting more jittery the longer Penguin glared.

"It better not come to this again! I don't want him uncomfortable." Penguin scolded, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits.

The man sighed but nodded,  taking it as a dismissal, or more like permission to quit the room and slam the door in his escape.  Meanwhile, all that burning, white hot pain was very much still present. 

"Why won't it stop?" The pain was pulsing,  strengthened by each beat of his heart pushing blood through his body,  lighting up his nerves. 

"It will stop,  you just have to give it a minute to work,  but it won't be long."

"I can't breathe... my chest won't work." Jim told him,  panick edging in the harder it was too make him body respond. 

Oswald swung his legs up, careful not to really touch him as he lay down beside him, scooting onto what little mattress there was, "Yes you can, yes you can, it just feels like you can't.  Breathing is a little harder right now, but you can do it."

Even though it hurt to move, Jim shifted his head closer so he could touch his cheek to Oswald's cool forehead, "Why is it so hard?"

Oswald was so desperately careful, only touching certain parts of him, but he draped his arm around Jim, "Because you're hurt,  but you're going to get better.  You're strong,  you're a fighter! I should know that better than anyone." Oswald nuzzled his nose against Jim's check like a bird, "James Gordon,  you never give up... and I need you to do something for me, a favor."

"I'll do anything for you, Oswald." Jim told him weakly, struggling through the empty feeling,  or perhaps it felt full in his lungs. But Oswald deserved whatever he asked for. 

There almost sounded like a crack in the man's voice when he spoke next and Jim felt the dog begin to lick his arm in slow,  methodical licks, "You're going to stay with me, Jim.  You're going to stay right here with me unless I tell you that you can leave! Do you understand? You can't leave me, do you promise? As a favor between old friends?"

"I promise," Jim agreed, even though he was getting tired and the world was growing fuzzy,  it was a simple enough request. He did not feel like getting up anyway. 

The dog kept licking him, cleaning and tending him the way dogs usually did.  Oswald ran circles over whatever skin his fingertips touched,  slow and distracting.  The pain ebbed into a memory,  less and less potent as the two of them waited. 

"I heard you sing once." Jim whispered into the heavy silence, "Can you sing now? Birds sing beautifully... except for mockingjays, they mock." 

"You want me to sing?" Oswald asked,  just as softly, "what do you want me to sing?" 

"Anything, I just want to hear you." 

Oswald took a long,  almost shaky breath,  and Jim wondered if he would refuse, but then he began in a quiet,  hauntingly peaceful tune;

" _Sok születésnapokat vígan megélhess,_

_Napjaidat számlálni ne légyen terhes,_

_Az ég harmatja szívedet újítsa,_

_Áldások árja házad elborítsa."_

Jim listened, caught in a spell, as if it were an enchantment. Perhaps it was and he would be none the wiser. Oswald tapped out a rhythm with his fingertips on Jim's collarbone, a subconscious thing to go along with the song,  but it felt like having the song itself ingrained into him. 

The soft sound sung so quietly into his ears wrapped around him as they lay there.  It felt like... things Jim had no right to anymore.  He liked it all the same,  basking in the warmth of it,  allowing it to comfort him. 

Jim fell asleep to the words floating into his being,  wrapping him up in a blanket of safety. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://youtu.be/JV33kbknfWU  
> If you wanna find the song. It's very pretty and I can imagine Gertrude singing this to little Oswald.


End file.
